Operation: GEMINI
by M306117
Summary: Twin Spartans. Twin universes. Twin wastelands. Different problems.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter One

**2309 HOURS, DECEMBER 19, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET MARS \ CITY OF NEW PARIS, SOMEWHERE IN THE RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT**

Corporal Andrew Edwards, of the 14th Shock Troops Battalion, moved forward in a half crouch, dodging around the burnt out hulks of cars and tanks while his twin brother, Lance Corporal Benny Edwards, covered him from one of the few remaining buildings.

Though the majority of the Covenant forces had withdrawn from Mars after the Battle of Mare Erythraeum and the much larger Battle of Earth, there were still isolated pockets of them still scattered throughout the city and the UNSC was intent on clearing them out.

Andrew stopped behind the partially melted husk of a Warthog and readied his assault rifle.

'Any sign, Benny?' he whispered over TEAMCOM, warily scanning the area before him. The Covenant had attacked New Paris with everything they could throw at it. From Wraiths and Ghosts to Banshees and Seraphs, they had managed to turn the once pristine city into a crater-strewn hellhole that was crawling with angry aliens.

'_Nope.' _Benny said. '_Just you and a bunch of wrecks. If there are any Covenant in the area, they're keeping a low profile.'_

'Acknowledged.' Andrew said. 'Moving to the next sector.'

He got up from behind his cover and began jogging further into the city's residential section. Once proud buildings now lay empty, their facades marred by plasma fire, and an eerie wind swept along the street. If Andrew listened hard enough, it sounded like the city itself was wailing in grief for the thousands of deaths that had occurred within it, both civilian and soldier alike.

Andrew gave the moaning little attention, head on a swivel, sweeping both sides of the street with each step. There were too many possible hiding spots. Every building had its doors open, or blown off, giving unlimited access to their interiors. A Jackal or Grunt could easily slip inside, wait for some unsuspecting Marine to pass by, then bam! They catch them by surprise with a plasma grenade or two. No more Marine.

But, thankfully, it seemed none of the methane suckers had decided to employ that tactic as none suddenly jumped out at him, leaving Andrew free to carry on down the street unopposed.

He emerged into a park, the sight of a fierce battle judging by the presence of Scorpion tanks, Warthogs, and several Hornets, all burnt out, facing their Covenant counterparts. Nothing moved.

Andrew jogged to a destroyed Hog and crouched down behind it.

'Okay, Benny.' He radioed. 'Come on up and cover me. I'm on the edge of a battlefield. Lot of hulks here.'

'_If that's the case, I'm not sure I'll be able to tell who's who.' _Benny radioed back. '_Hard to tell one worn out and old piece of crap from another.'_

'I'm four minutes older than you!' Andrew shot back.

'_Still older. I'm in the prime of my life.'_

The Helljumper shook his head. 'Not when I get my hands on you.'

'_That'd be murder.' _Benny said.

'Suicide.' Andrew said. 'Technically, you're a clone of me so I'd be killing myself. Ergo, I'm committing suicide.'

'_How am I a clone of you?'_

Who was born first?'

'_Touché.'_

Andrew smiled as he swept his assault rifle over the park, trying to spot any movement from anywhere. There was nothing but silence and damaged vehicles with craters dotted here and there.

'_Okay, in position.' _Benny radioed. '_Got eyes on jack shit as far as I can see. If there are Covies here, they're keeping one hell of a low profile.'_

'Think we try something to draw them out?'

'_What did you have in mind?'_

'I was thinking Skopje with maybe a little Cleveland thrown in for good measure.'

'_Do we even have enough grenades for that?'_

'We'll work something out.' Andrew murmured, looking across the battlefield. He spotted exactly what he wanted. 'Cover me. I might have found exactly what we need.'

'_Oh, Christ.'_

**0011 HOURS, DECEMBER 20, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET MARS \ CITY OF NEW PARIS, SOMEWHERE IN THE RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT**

'_If this fails, and we die, I'm gonna kill you.' _Benny said as Andrew put the finishing touches on his plan.

'You say that about every plan I come up with.' Andrew replied. 'With a total number of zero fatalities on our part, I'd say my plans work out.'

'_Or they all miraculously fall within that slim margin of success.'_

'This is true. Either way, I have a good feeling about this.'

'_Can I get that in writing? Just in case things go horribly wrong?'_

'Not a chance, sunshine.' Andrew said, running back to cover. 'That'd create bad luck and then the next plan I come up with would fail horribly.' He slid behind a Scorpion. 'Though I guess then it'd be your fault and my record would remain clean.'

'_You say that.' _Benny murmured. '_Okay, everything looks about ready. Whenever you're ready, Andy.'_

'Gotcha, Bungie.' Andrew said, holding up a remote detonator. 'Plan Awesome in T-minus now.'

He thumbed the activation button, sending the signal to ignite a brick of C12 he'd shoved into the power core of a mostly intact Wraith, placing a mixture of plasma and frag grenades on top of the massive tank.

It detonated, catching whatever fuel remained in the Covie tank, and caused an even larger explosion that possessed a white-hot tinge to it, propelling the grenades high into the air where they too exploded and added to the light show though their individual explosions were drowned out by the Wraith going up.

The shockwave from the blast buffeted Andrew even from behind cover, deafening him a little.

He peeked out from behind the tank and saw the flaming wreckage of the Wraith, spewing plasma and smoke high into the air.

'Anything?' he asked.

'_Nothing yet.' _Benny said. '_Give it two minutes then if nothing shows, we can call this place clean.'_

'Agreed.' Andrew said as a dull whine started up in his ears. 'Though I think you'll have to radio command and let them know. My ears aren't working so well after that blast.'

'_That's old age.' _Benny said. '_The hearing is the first to go.'_

'About quarter past midnight.' Andrew said, earning a groaning laugh from his brother.

**1145 HOURS, DECEMBER 23, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ CITY OF SYDNEY, HIGHCOM FACILITY BRAVO-6**

Andrew and Benny felt uncomfortable sitting in their dress uniforms as they waited to meet with an ONI official about some career opportunity. It felt weird. They only wore their dress blues for award ceremonies, of which there were few, or for funerals, of which there had been too many of late.

Still, with the war unofficially over and peace talks with the Elites underway, there might not be so many funerals to go anymore.

Both twins sat back, watching the personnel that staffed the Hive go about their business.

'What kind of career opportunity do you think this guy Johnson wants to talk about?' Benny asked.

'For you? Probably weapons testing.' Andrew said. 'I hear they need to test the effects of what an overcharged plasma pistol pistol does when held close to a Marine's balls. Might cause sterility, might cause them to drop off. They need some hapless loser to test them out on and apparently, you fit the bill.'

'Maybe.' Benny said. 'You, they'd probably send to a cosmetics company. They need to test their products on something that resembles a human but isn't quite one. You're screwed up enough to qualify.'

'At least I'd be pretty.' Andrew said. 'And I could hit the town after work without spending hours getting ready or spending a fortune on stuff to augment my already impressive good looks.'

'You can polish a turd...' Benny muttered.

'You can put glitter on it as well.' a voice said, making the twins look up. Stood before them was an average looking man wearing the uniform of a spook but no bars to indicate rank. 'But I prefer to leave it as is. What you see is what you get.'

Andrew and Benny exchanged looks. Neither had seen the man approach and they had been looking up and down the corridor the whole time. Both thought spook and left it at that.

'True enough, sir.' Andrew said. 'You Johnson?'

'Right in one, Andrew.' Johnson said. 'Now, if you're done making up jobs for each other, I've got an altogether more real and exciting one waiting for you.'

The twins exchanged another look. People who knew them well had a hard time telling the two apart, the sole exception being their mother, a fact that wasn't helped by the fact their uniforms were just as identical as their faces. They had the same medals and name tags. The only thing that wasn't the same was their rank and even then, a single stripe separated them.

How Johnson could tell them apart after standing there for only a few minutes was a mystery but they just put it down to him being either a spook, guessing correctly, or simply observing who was what rank.

They shrugged and stood, following Johnson through the maze of Bravo-6 to his office and sat down in two leather backed seats, torn between sitting at attention and sitting casually. Johnson had no visible rank but he was definitely higher up the food chain than either twin could ever hope to rise.

They settled on casual. Johnson seemed relaxed and didn't say anything when they leaned back, simply copying them and offering both Helljumpers a Sweet William cigar.

Once all the cigars were lit, Johnson began.

'Gentlemen, as I'm sure you're aware, the UNSC has lost most of the Spartan supersoldiers recently and even though we're signing a peace treaty with the Elites, we're still far from safe.' he said. 'And ONI wants to turn that around.'

'So pump more money into the Helljumpers.' Andrew said. 'We've been around longer than the Spartans and have way more personnel. We can get the job done.'

'Yeah.' Benny said. 'ODSTs don't care what the mission is. Just give us a rifle, a drop pod, and we're away. It's what we train for.'

'An excellent point, Benjamin.' Johnson said. 'Unfortunately, ONI has other ideas. They looked at the previous generations, from the original ORION all the way to the SPARTAN-III, and came to a number of conclusions that made the basic premise of the programs too unsuitable to try again.

'Number one is cost.' Johnson said as the twins blew out a stream of smoke each. 'The Spartan-II and Spartan-III programs could have funded several battlegroups in armour construction and maintenance alone, not to mention the training of the Spartans, building training facilities and provided the staff to train them.

'Second is the training itself.'

'I thought that was top notch?' Andrew asked.

'It is. Or was, I should say.' Johnson said, nodding his head. 'The only problem is that it broke numerous ethical laws.'

'How?' Benny asked.

'Well, the Spartan-II program kidnapped seventy-five six year olds from their homes, replaced them with flash clones, and indoctrinated them into military service from the very beginning.' the ONI agent began. 'And the Spartan-III used war orphans to carry out high value, low survivability, missions against the Covenant, often sending kids as young as eleven to die.'

'Jesus Christ.' both twins whispered.

'They got away with that?' Andrew asked after several stunned seconds.

'Yes and no.' Johnson admitted. 'We've got people looking for the director of the S-II program but she vanished. As for the S-III, I'm not entirely sure who was involved. The data is redacted heavily.'

'Don't tell me you want us to try and find the data.' Benny said. 'Because me and Andy here know jack shit about computers.'

'Oh, god no.' Johnson said. 'We've got our best people working on that as we speak. No, what I wanted to talk to you about was whether or not you wanted to become Spartans yourselves.'

Andrew and Benny looked at each other.

'Come again?' they said together, turning back to Johnson.

'Do you want to become Spartans?' Johnson asked. 'ONI's plan to make up for the lack of Spartans is to make more. We're not using children this time around, but willing adult volunteers from every branch across the UNSC that have proven themselves to be adept in combat. You two are exactly what we're looking for.'

'We're not that good in combat.' Andrew began.

'Yeah, we mostly shoot our way out and get by on a good deal of luck.' Benny finished. 'Our CO usually passes us over for high risk missions.'

'Ah, but you work well together.' Johnson said, pulling out a thick paper file. 'That same CO who gives other Helljumpers the dangerous missions rather than you has noted that 'Trooper Edwards, Andrew and Trooper Edwards, Benny work with almost perfect synchronisation. They do not falter, hesitate, or argue in combat and seem to know almost instinctively what the other will do without any words being spoken. And while their combat record is hardly exemplary compared to other Helljumpers, they show a good deal of creativity when tackling the enemy.

'If I were to give another two-man team an objective to complete, Troopers Edwards and Edwards would accomplish it with less arguing and more creative use of whatever supplies are to hand.' Johnson continued. 'They are capable of working apart from other Helljumpers and will routinely take the initiative if a superior officer is not present.'

He closed the file, placing his cigar in a nearby ashtray, then leaned forward. 'ONI isn't looking solely for soldiers that have a knack for succeeding all the time. They'll take Marines that can look at a situation and figure out the best way to get around, or can work with little command presence. And they especially want soldiers that can work well together no matter what.

'Now, do I have the right soldiers for the job or not?'

The twins glanced at each other, silently contemplating Johnson's offer.

'What kind of pay rise would we get?' Andrew asked, regarding Johnson through a cloud of smoke.

'And do we get bonuses for volunteering for really hazardous deployments?' Benny added.

Johnson smiled. 'At least double your current salary.' he said. 'And that's just the entry level packet. You show enough promise, climb the ranks, you could get even more by selecting a specialisation.'

'What about armour?' Andrew asked. 'Do we use normal ODST BDUs or we getting MJOLNIR?'

'Don't we need special medical procedures for that?' Benny said to his brother. 'I knew a guy who mentioned something about a patient at the M25L recovery station, something about her being crippled by some kind of augmentation procedure.'

'So?' Andrew said back. 'What does that have to do with anything?'

'Guy said she was a Spartan. One of the originals.'

'That true?' Andrew said, looking at Johnson. 'We going to have to go through some kind of potentially body wrecking augmentation procedure?'

'Yes and no.' Johnson said. 'Yes, you'll have to go through some augmentations. No, they won't be body wrecking like you said. We've worked out most of the bugs.'

'Most?' Benny said. 'Comforting.'

Johnson shrugged. 'You don't have to say yes, Trooper. You can always leave. It won't be held against you, and if you say yes and the augmentations do go wrong, you'll be given the best treatment the UNSC can provide. We take care of our own.' He pulled out two pieces of paper, transfer orders from the looks of them, and passed them to the twins.

'If you want to join the Spartan-IV program, sign on the dotted line.' he said. 'We'll house you in new accommodations and get the procedures set up as soon as possible.'

Andrew and Benny took the papers and stared down at them, thinking.

New armour, stronger bodies, better pay, more high risk missions with hazard pay thrown in, and the admiration that only a Spartan could get from mainline Marine units.

'Deal.' they said together, reaching for a pen Johnson had produced after they'd taken the transfer paper and placed near identical signatures on the dotted line as asked.

Johnson smiled as he took them back.

'Wise move.' he said. 'And just in time, too. A mission needing experienced soldiers who can work together just popped up.'

'Sure thing.' Andrew said.

'What is it?' Benny asked.

Johnson smiled again. 'What do you know about parallel worlds?'


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter Two

**1201 HOURS, DECEMBER 23, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ CITY OF SYDNEY, HIGHCOM FACILITY BRAVO-6**

'Science fiction.' Andrew said.

'Infinite possibilities.' Benny said.

'Go on.' Johnson said, more to Benny than Andrew.

'The fifth dimension.' Benny said. 'Parallel worlds which are similar to our own world but slightly different in some way, shape or form. Could be minor, could be major.'

'An example being?' Johnson prompted.

'Well, in our world, we encountered the Covies.' Benny said after a moment to think. 'In another world, we may not have met them at all. Or we became absorbed into the Covenant or we became partners. Or maybe we never reached beyond the Sol Star system, staying bottled up in here.'

'Or the dominant species on Earth wasn't humans, but multicoloured horses or something.' Andrew added, jokingly.

Johnson gave a slight smile.

'You're right.' he said. 'Parallel worlds are the realm of infinite possibilities where anything could happen, but they aren't science fiction, Trooper Edward. They're science fact.'

'Bullshit.' Andrew said. 'We can't travel between universes.'

'Bulltrue.' Johnson said as he pulled out a data pad and held it out to the sceptical Helljumper. 'A few days ago, a Covenant Assault Carrier under UNSC control dropped out of Slipspace. The crew were from a frigate we'd labelled as lost with all hands after it failed to return to UNSC space following a battle. The crew had some interesting tales to tell during their debrief.'

Andrew took the pad from Johnson and began reading through the contents, an after action report.

'The crew,' Johnson said to Benny as Andrew began reading in earnest. 'arrived back at Earth thinking everything was fine. But, as they drew closer to home, soon realised it wasn't quite right. There were no UNSC ships or stations, no HIGHCOM or FLEETCOM channels, nothing. Just a planet that had gone through nuclear war and was now a radioactive wasteland filled with marauders, mutated creatures, and technology that looked like it belonged in the 1950's.'

'Seriously?' Benny said, snatching the data pad from his brother.

'Sure, Ben, you can read it now.' Andrew said flatly, hands holding an imaginary tablet. 'I'm finished with it.'

'Thanks.' Benny said.

'So they really did travel to an alternate world?' Andrew asked, gesturing at the after action report.

Johnson nodded. 'They'd picked up an ancient alien device that enabled a ship in Slipstream Space to cross over. It was part of some experiment or something, done by a race even older than the Covenant, and we stumbled across it.'

Andrew leant back in his chair, took one last drag from his cigar before stubbing it out, then blew out a cloud of smoke through which he regarded Johnson. 'So where do me and him fit in?' he asked, jerking his head at Benny. 'You've got this device thing. What more do you want?'

'We want to go back.' Johnson said, making Benny look up from the tablet. 'That universe, where the Earth was ravaged by nukes, the people there made some incredible advances regarding radiation and laser and plasma weapons. They actually found a way to rid the body completely of any accumulated radiation and even boost a person's resistance to it. As in, their body can absorb more radiation before it affects their cells.'

'So you're gonna send us to this parallel world.' Benny said.

'Correct.' Johnson said. 'Once ONI got their hands on this thing and learned that not only did this world have some pieces of technology we could reverse engineer and improve upon, but that the crew that went there hadn't collected any samples, they began drawing up plans to go back and get as much tech as they could.

'We've been trying to crack plasma weaponry for nearly thirty years with little to show for it.' Johnson continued. 'This universe, where vacuum tubes were still in use in room sized computers, not only managed to create a combat ready plasma weapon, they did it in less than five years with scientists half as smart as ours without AI help or billions of dollars of R&D funds.'

'And ONI, being the egotistical little brat it is, doesn't like having some backwater guy doing better than it.' Andrew said, earning another smile from Johnson.

'Correct.' he said. 'They're throwing one hell of a temper tantrum about and I've got to soothe it. So you two, after the augmentations, will be sent along with some science personnel to a waiting frigate which will jump to the device's location and from there, hopefully travel to a new world.'

'Hopefully?' Benny said. 'Why do I get the feeling that there's some danger you've not told us about?'

'Because this device, as wondrous as it sounds, only has a fifteen percent chance of actually transporting you to a parallel world.' Johnson said. 'And a five percent chance of blowing you to atomised bits so really, there's an eighty percent chance you won't actually travel to a mirror universe but go through a normal slipspace jump.'

'Atomised bits?' both twins repeated, alarm playing across their faces.

'As in, no more Andy and Benny?' Andrew said.

'Just some atoms that used to be us, floating around in space?' Benny said.

Johnson nodded. 'There's a five percent chance of that happening, yes.' he said. 'But if it does, we'll support your mother financially as best we can.'

'You'd better.' Andrew said. 'Otherwise I'll make it my mission to kill you.'

'I'll make it a priority to speak with accountancy this afternoon and make the arrangements.' Johnson said.

'Good.' Benny said, discarding his cigar and handing Johnson his tablet back. 'Now about those augmentations you mentioned...'

**1800 HOURS, JANUARY 19, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ MEDIUM EARTH ORBIT EN ROUTE TO UNSC CORVETTE **_**DAGGER**_

One painful augmentation procedure and a video message to their mum wishing her a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year later, Andrew and Benny found themselves aboard a Pelican with half a dozen civilian scientists rocketing towards a fast ship that would take them to their intended chariot, a Paris-class heavy frigate.

Both twins were now much taller, a fraction of an inch shy of seven foot, and heavier, their bones and muscles denser and capable of doing even more without the risk of breaking, and could now virtually see in the dark.

It had hurt like hell and their bodies still throbbed with pain every now and then but other than that, both had received a fit for duty classification from the medical team that had operated on them and were discharged, ready to go, two days ago.

Now, clad in the MJOLNIR under suits with a small bag of personal effects by their feet, Andrew and Benny mulled over what they might experience on this mission.

Johnson had given them info packets containing details on the parallel world and their primary area of operations, the desolated ruins of Washington, DC, now christened the Capital Wasteland.

It was home to a number of hostile things. Mutated creatures like giant ants or something called super mutants, big angry things that once been human, as well as rampant robots armed with missiles launchers and miniguns, and varying bandits that raped, murdered, tortured and otherwise caused pain just for fun.

Some were just roving gangs going from place to place, scavenging supplies, but a small number were more organised, calling themselves Talon Company and advertised their services as guns for hire, though the previous crew had, with the help from a faction called the Brotherhood of Steel, broken them and killed most. There was the possibility that some of the mercenaries may still be present but given their low tech, Johnson had rated them as a minimal threat.

Andrew and Benny had glossed over most of the details. If it shot at or attacked them without provocation, it was hostile and asking to be put down. Didn't matter if it was a scraggly looking raider or a ten foot tall yellow-green monster. They'd shoot at it until it was dead.

One of the scientists, a fresh faced twenty-year old, leaned towards the two Helljumpers-turned-Spartans with a question on his lips.

'Are you two really Spartans?' he asked, talking loudly to overcome the Pelican's engines. 'I mean, actual Spartans?'

'Last we checked, yeah.' Andrew said, eyeing the man up. 'Why? You got something against them?'

'No. No. God, no.' he said. 'You guys are practically the reason why humanity came through the war and won. If it wasn't for Spartans, we wouldn't have survived.'

Benny turned to Andrew and gave him an impressed smile and Andrew knew that Benny was liking the admiration. He was as well.

'Well, yes and no.' Benny said, leaning across his brother. 'We are Spartans, we're just not the ones that helped keep the Covies at bay.'

'Oh?' the scientist said.

'Yeah, ONI came up with some new program to make more Spartans.' Andrew said. 'You know, bolster the ones they already have. Me and my brother here were ODSTs before signing up. They're taking veterans from every branch the UNSC has, the best of the best, and giving them augmentations and MJOLNIR armour.'

'But they were scraping the barrel when they picked him.' Benny said, jerking a thumb at Andrew. 'Guy has no originality when it comes to fighting. He actually prefers to use an assault rifle on them rather than the more elegant battle rifle.'

'At least I know that my target is dead when I shoot it.' Andrew shot back. 'Remember that Jackal sniper you 'took out' back on Reach? That same one who got back up, aimed their needle rifle, and shot me in the ass?'

'An honest mistake.' Benny said. 'I saw a spurt of blood and-'

'Then there was that Elite you 'clipped in the throat' in Cleveland who some managed to keep fighting.' Andrew said, cutting his brother off. 'That Brute who, despite getting a neat triple tap 'through his skull', was able to direct his troops for a full hour before I pumped him full of lead. Oh, and what about-'

'Okay.' Benny said, loudly. 'I get it. There have been some... _premature _calls on kills on my part. But who was it that sprayed an entire magazine at the Colonel and her entourage, hitting said Colonel three times _in the ass_, then followed up with a flash bang?'

'That wasn't my fault.' Andrew said.

'How wasn't it?'

'Dunno. I'm still working on that.'

The scientist who had spoken looked between the twins. 'You guys got chosen to be Spartans?'

'Unfortunately.' they said together as the pilot announced they were approaching their destination.

Both Spartans and the scientists gathered up their gear and waited for the Pelican to dock within the corvette's meagre hangar bay that was barely big enough to squeeze the dropship in. It was a testament to the pilot's skill that they managed it without scraping the paint.

The rear hatch opened and the eight passengers disembarked, taking their stuff and headed for the only door in the hangar.

Andrew and Benny let the scientists go first then followed at a leisurely pace, ducking under the occasional low bulkhead as they headed for the cryo bay.

Already the corvette was moving, getting ready to jump to Slipspace. It had the remaining crew for Johnson's mission and orders to leave once they were onboard.

'See you in a month.' Benny said as he and Andrew entered the cryo bay and began disrobing. Going into cryo required going in naked. Otherwise, the covered skin would break out in painful blisters and become red raw.

They packed their kit away and opened their pods.

'Likewise.' Andrew said as the covers opened fully, each twin getting in and lying down.

The lid came down with a hum as the various gases, drugs, and bronchial surfactant were pumped into the pod and began the process of preparing the brothers for a month long sleep in the freezer.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter Three

**1544 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SLIPSTREAM SPACE – UNKNOWN COORDINATES NEAR SOL SYSTEM \ ABOARD UNSC FRIGATE **_**BUTTERFLY**_

Once the journey through Slipspace aboard the _Dagger _was over with, Andrew and Benny were then subjected to another month long trip in the freezer aboard a Paris-class heavy frigate, the _Butterfly, _to one of three possibilities.

The first was they'd simply go back to Earth, having a normal trip through the eleven non-dimensions through Slipspace, no worse for wear.

The second possibility, the least favourable one, was that rather than go anywhere, the frigate and everyone onboard her would simply blow up and be reduced to random atoms floating in space.

The third possible destination, the intended one, was the parallel world where nuclear fire had killed almost everyone and turned it into a hellish wasteland.

Seeing as the _Butterfly _was still in piece, the odds were fifty-fifty on whether the crew would arrive back at the Earth where the UNSC was in power, or the Earth where radiation ruled supreme. Only time would tell.

The twins sorely hoped it was latter. Otherwise, it would be another two months in a cryo tube and another chance at being atomised. Neither wanted to go through that again.

They had quickly dressed after getting out of their cryo tubes and walked to the armour bay where they'd be suited up in the armour.

Due to how quickly the mission had been scraped together, neither twin had spent any time in the armour before jumping on the _Dagger _but during the first few days onboard the _Butterfly, _they'd been suited up and coached through the use of the MJOLNIR armour until it came to them as naturally as breathing.

'You think we'll manage it?' Andrew asked as he and Benny strode down the corridor. There was only them in it. Every non-essential crewmember, which is to say everyone but the engineers, was still in cryo, meaning the ship was deserted. 'Travel to a parallel world?'

Benny shrugged. 'Johnson seemed to think so. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent us now, would he?'

'Well, he might have done it for shits and giggles.' Andrew said. 'You know, ONI doing what they like because they can. Hell, we might not even be deploying on a science mission, but to quell some kind of far off rebellion. The whole parallel world thing could have been a smoke screen.'

'Maybe.' Benny said, nodding in agreement. 'But we're Helljumpers turned Spartans. So long as there's something to shoot...'

'The Edward brothers are happy to go.' Andrew finished. 'We really need to come up with a better motto than that.'

Benny shrugged again. 'It's better than prepare for trouble, make it double. That shit was old even before we became Marines.'

Andrew shook his head but grinned as they reached the armour bay, tucked into what had been a bunk room for the ship's complement of ODSTs. Unlike the Charon- and Stalwart-class frigates used by the UNSC, the Paris-class was primarily designed for engaging enemy ships rather that fleet escort of supporting ground operations.

It had a larger MAC gun, more Archer missile pods, a bigger reactor, and a more reinforced superstructure at a cost of being unable to carry masses of soldiers or their vehicles, the hangar bays split between Longswords and Pelicans. There were only a handful of regular soldiers, Helljumpers, stationed onboard to repel any boarders.

Three of them would accompany Andrew and Benny to the planet on their mission to recover technology though only in a support role, using a Falcon stashed onboard the frigate to provide fire support and rapid transport in the destroyed urban expanse.

A Pelican would have been safer but slower, and be a much bigger target. The tilt-wing aircraft was much more nimble and smaller, able to go places the bulky dropship couldn't.

Inside the armour bay, two machines sat side by side with half a dozen technicians manning each, and the twins split up.

'Ah, Fireteam Gemini.' the lead technician said as they settled into the machines, starting the process of armouring up. 'Sleep well?'

'As well as you can in a giant metal freezer.' Benny said, grabbing hold of the handles in his armour bay. 'Hey, Andy. You don't think Johnson chose us for this mission to travel to a twin world solely because we are twins, do you?'

Andrew made a slight noise as his armour bay rotated him and went horizontal, catching him off guard, before saying, 'You know, I thought it was just a strange coincidence that he selected us to go off to parallel worlds. But now that you mention it...'

A few of the technicians smirked behind their masks, watching the process of armouring the twins up with some fascination.

It was quick and precise, the machines slotting the armour into place before tightening the locking bolts up to keep them there, moving Andrew and Benny around to attach the different pieces, and they were fully suited up inside of three minutes, far quicker than the previous generation of MJOLNIR armour would have taken.

With the Spartan-IV project came new armour, possessing masses more customisation and flexibility, dubbed GEN2. Johnson had mentioned to the brothers that designs were being drawn up for nearly forty different models, each one suited for a number of different situations, but only a few were available so far.

The twins had looked over a few armour designs, trying to choose one that would suit them the best, but Johnson had closed the door on that, stating that they would have to prove they were worthy of it.

So both of them had been issued with the Recruit armour that all Spartan-IV rookies would be given, finished in the factory stock colours of steel grey with rust coloured highlights, and a blue visor. They would have complained but, it was still MJOLNIR armour and superior in every way to the BDUs they'd worn as Helljumpers.

The technicians stepped back as the last pieces of armour were attached and the helmet descended down to slot into place, sealing the system, and finish the process.

'Everything reads normal.' the lead technician said, looking at a screen as the twins stepped out of the armour bays. 'Power levels are at one hundred percent, shields charging normally. Neural lace synced, no anomalous readings. Okay, Fireteam Gemini. You're good to go.'

'Awesome.' Benny said, clenching and unclenching his hands.

'Now let's hope we actually manage to get to the right universe.' Andrew said. 'I do not want to risk blowing up again.'

**1632 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SLIPSTREAM SPACE – UNKNOWN COORDINATES NEAR SOL SYSTEM \ ABOARD UNSC FRIGATE **_**BUTTERFLY**_

The twins headed to the bridge, each footfall making thuds on the steel deck.

Since they had armoured up, the command crew had been thawed out and were now in place, ready to control the ship once they got out of Slipspace, and Andrew and Benny had orders to report to the commander once the ship was nearing the end of its journey.

The bridge doors opened before the Spartans and they stepped onto the bridge, feeling slightly out of place. Everyone was dressed in Naval uniforms and was six foot tall or less. Andrew and Benny were dressed in a few hundred kilos of reactive circuits, armour plating, and recharging energy shields, and their heads nearly scraped the low ceiling. Plus, neither had ever been on the bridge of any UNSC starship before. This was a whole new experience for them.

A few bridge crew glanced at them as they walked past before returning to their monitors but that was about it.

Sat in the command chair was a grizzled bear of a man by the name of Hammond, his rugged face marred by a scar that ran from his eyebrow to his chin. An AI's avatar hovered over the holotank built into the chair, a youngish woman wearing jeans and a lab coat. She turned to look at the Spartans while Hammond didn't.

He held up a hand as Andrew and Benny approached, signalling for them to wait, while focusing on the forward viewscreen.

'Okay, NAV.' Hammond said. 'Count us out.'

'Exiting Slipspace in fifteen seconds.' the Lieutenant on NAV said, watching her screen. 'Ten seconds. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two seconds. One.'

Deceleration tugged at the ship and everyone onboard, the forward viewscreens that had, up until this point, been showing nothing but blackness suddenly snapped on to show a field of stars.

'We're clear of Slipspace.' NAV announced. 'Fifteen million kilometres from Earth.'

'Beginning a search of COM signals.' COM said a few seconds later. 'Nothing. I'm not picking up any kind of recognisable radio signal. Just static.'

Normally, this would have been a cause for concern. But, this wasn't a normal situation. Silence was exactly what they were looking for.

Hammond nodded. 'Just like the first time.' he said. 'Alright. NAV, plot a course to Earth, get us to the East coast of America. Guns, warm up everything we have. The last ship that came here got pranged by a UFO. I'm not about to let that happen to mine.'

The crew gave varying acknowledgements, typing in their commands, as Hammond got up from his chair and stood before Andrew and Benny, craning his neck upwards to meet their faces.

'So, you're the ones who are gonna be leading the ground operation?' Hammond said after shaking their hands.

'Unfortunately.' they said together.

Hammond smiled, a move that revealed a few crooked teeth. 'You ever been on an ONI op before?'

They shook their heads.

'First time.' Andrew said.

'First Spartan deployment, too.' Benny said.

'Well, ONI ops can go one of two ways.' Hammond said, settling on the arm of his chair. 'They're either a good chance to catch up on long overdue paperwork, or they go exactly the opposite way to what you were told it'd be like.'

'I'm guessing this isn't your first super top secret mission.' Andrew said.

This got a chuckle from the commander. 'If I told you that, I'd have to kill you.' Hammond eyed up their armour, smile never faltering. 'Well, maybe bribe you into silence.'

Andrew and Benny laughed a little too.

'Anyway.' Hammond said, clasping his hands together. 'Johnson gave me the briefing packet. You two, and three Helljumpers, are gonna go down to the planet and pick up any shiny gizmo you can, and then bring it back to us where a bunch of eggheads are gonna rip them apart, figure out how they work, and do whatever geeks do.

'Now, our intel on this place is a bit sketchy.' he continued. 'The previous crew spent most of their time fighting off some threat or another so most of what we have is hearsay. What we do know is that the place we're sending you to is the Capital Wasteland. Used to be Washington, DC, now it's a hellhole. There are some settlements in the area but the one you'll want is located in the Pentagon, rechristened the Citadel.'

'Who lives there?' Benny asked.

'Brotherhood of Steel.' Hammond said. 'Some neo-knightly organisation dedicated to protecting the people of the wastes. They worked alongside a Spartan-Helljumper force previously so they should be okay with you, though you might have to do a favour with them in exchange for weapons and supplies.'

The twins shared a nod but before they or Hammond could speak again, an alarm sounded throughout the room.

'Contact!' NAV said. 'Unknown ship ten thousand kilometres away.'

'Show me.' Hammond said, sliding into his seat.

The number three viewscreen went blank momentarily then resolved to show a saucer shaped ship hanging in the skies above the Earth, its grey hull glinting dully in the sunlight.

The AI hummed, cupping one hand under her chin, as though deep in thought.

'The design is the same as Zeta, if not identical.' she said. 'Orbital position is much the same. Could be a sister ship, come to investigate the disappearance.'

'Possibility of it having a human crew?' Hammond asked.

'Minimal.' the AI said. 'Zeta was only taken over due to it abducting people who then overthrew it. They may only be here to investigate, not experiment, so there probably aren't any humans onboard.'

It was Hammond's turn to hum. 'Best course of action?'

'Destroy it.' the AI said after a brief pause. 'If it is similar to Zeta, the main cannon would have no difficultly tearing through the _Butterfly _like it did the _Heavy Hitter.'_

Hammond nodded. 'Very well. Go to battle stations. NAV, bring us to station keeping and point our nose at that thing, and prepare emergency thrusters. We'll only have a small time window to dodge that laser. Guns, prime Archer pods A through D and load a heavy round into the MAC. Then get me all Longswords into the black. I want to keep as many missiles and MAC rounds as possible in case another one of these things show up.'

'Aye, sir.' Guns said as the bridge lights turned red. 'Priming pods A through D, loading a heavy round.' He typed in some commands. 'All Longswords are away.'

Six of the bulky craft shot from the frigate and began heading to the UFO, keeping their distance.

'Coordinate everything to hit that son of a bitch all at once.' Hammond ordered. 'They have a shield and it can be dialled up in power. Let's see if it can handle a combined attack.'

The bridge crew jumped to their tasks, leaving Andrew and Benny feeling useless. They were ground pounders through and through, and had no idea how to work a ship of the line. Marines, ODSTs, even Spartans, were no use in ship to ship combat. They were just cargo.

Benny motioned with his head to the back of the room where they could stand without getting in anyone's way, and Andrew followed.

'Transfer fire control to the main computer.' Hammond said as the _Butterfly _bore down on the UFO. 'Tell the Longswords to maintain positions either side of us.'

Onscreen, the UFO began moving to give its main cannon a clear shot of the frigate

'Fire.' Hammond said.

The _Butterfly _carried forty oversized Archer missile pods, each carrying around forty missiles filled with high explosives that packed enough of a punch to cripple most UNSC ships, meaning it launched 160 of those missiles at the UFO alongside six Longswords worth of ASGM-10 missiles, themselves designed to shred unshielded targets, at the enemy ship.

They screeched from their respective launchers, tiny trails of exhaust in the vacuum of space that altered their velocity so they would arrive roughly at the same time, and alongside the _Butterfly_'s main weapon, the magnetic accelerator cannon.

It fired a ferrous tungsten slug nearly ten meters end to end, weighing upwards of six-hundred tons, at around thirty-thousand metres per second in space. Larger ships had multiple, more powerful MACs, but the _Butterfly _only had the one. Even so, the energy released on impact was somewhere around sixty kilotons, roughly three times as powerful as the bomb dropped on Nagasaki.

Firing one usually took up most of the available power and diverted energy from the lights, briefly casting the bridge in darkness, before a red hot slug of metal was spat from the ship's bow at tremendous speeds and sent towards the UFO.

It made no attempt to move, or even shoot down the incoming threats, and everyone watched as everything they had launched at it collided with the alien hull. For the briefest of moments, a silvery film was visible but it broke under the strain of the missile.

Then the MAC round struck its target.

Shrapnel and fire was thrown out as the metal slug tore through the superstructure, knocking the ship off course, tearing completely through to the other side where it continued towards the Earth and was soon lost from sight. Fire blossomed from the hole it left behind.

'Shall I prime the next four Archers, sir?' the gunnery officer asked, looking at the commander.

'Wait.' Hammond said, watching the UFO closely.

It seemed to hang in place, drifting on a vague heading that would take it towards the Earth, and the twins expected to see it right its orbit and face them down again, or turn and run, but the UFO's commander must have died or the engines knocked out because rather than do either of those, the ship kept heading towards the Earth, developing a slow tumble.

'She's dead.' Andrew said, breaking the silence.

'Concur.' NAV said after checking her screen. 'Enemy ship will reach the outer atmosphere inside of two minutes at present velocity, and entry angle will rip them apart if they don't correct soon.'

'Recall all Longswords.' Hammond ordered. 'Secure from battle stations.'

There was a mute click as the lights resumed their brilliant white glow, making Andrew and Benny squint a little.

'NAV, resume course to the East Coast.' Hammond said. 'Guns, prepare chaff and ECM. There might be orbital missile platforms still operational and I do not want my ship being hit by some centuries old nuke.'

'Aye, sir.' the two officers replied.

'Alright then.' Hammond said, glancing over his shoulder at the two Spartans. 'Let's get this show on the road.'


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter Four

**1720 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ ABOARD UNSC FRIGATE **_**BUTTERFLY**_**, HOLDING POSITION ABOVE THE STATE OF VIRGINIA**

The exploration team, consisting of three ODSTs and the two Spartans, met in one of the unused bunk rooms ready for their briefing.

Andrew and Benny sat on one side of the room, observing the Helljumpers. Two were privates called Fillion and Baldwin, the ones manning the machine guns and providing the Spartans with air support, and the pilot was a sergeant called Wash. She had nodded once at the Spartans upon seeing them enter, slowly making conversation after learning the twins were former Helljumpers themselves.

They had their helmets off, sharing a joke or two, as they waited for Hammond to arrive with their technical expert. All five soldiers had shared inward groans at the thought of having to babysit a civilian in an area known to dangerous at the best of times. It meant complications, added danger, and a royal ass chewing from command if so much as a hair was out of place on their precious expert's head.

But, orders were orders and until any of them retired, they'd have to follow them.

'So then Andy here pops up out of foxhole, screaming at the top of his lungs, and fires an entire _magazine _at the Colonel and the guys she was with,' Benny said, relaying another of his and Andrew's misadventures to Wash and her crew. 'Now, none of them knew what was going on. It was the middle of the day, they were performing an inspection of the front line, and the Covies were keeping quiet, so you can imagine their surprise when this black armoured figure suddenly sprang from the ground, covered in mud and blood spatter, shooting an assault rifle at them.'

'Seriously?' Wash said, looking at Andrew who grinned sheepishly.

'That's not the worst part,' Benny said. 'So there they are, trying to figure out how to react, and by this time the colonel has three rounds lodged in her ass. She's not sure whether to be pissed or frightened for her life, because it could be some Innie sympathiser or some idiot Jarhead hopped up on stims and no sleep , when all of a sudden numb nuts here drops a flashbang in the middle of her little group.

'So then she's writhing on the floor, trying to decide which pain deserves the most attention. Does she worry about the rounds in her butt, or the ringing in her ears and blindness, when what should happen but two hundred and fifty pounds of dumbass and armour comes flying at her, tackling her back down to the ground.'

'You didn't,' Fillion said.

'I did,' Andrew said, holding his hands up in admission. 'I tackled Colonel Ryan straight to the floor, breaking her collar bone in the process.'

'He then has the audacity to say to her, and I quote, 'Get down, ma'am. There's a threat'. I could not stop laughing.' Benny shook his head in amusement. 'What was funnier was Ryan's reply. She said, and I may be paraphrasing a little because I was still doubled over laughing, 'Yeah. Some fucktard by the name of Edwards who just earned himself a year of KP duty'.'

Wash, Fillion, and Baldwin broke out in laughter as Andrew stood and gave a short bow.

'How... how long was all this?' Baldwin asked between giggles.

'What is it, March now?' Benny said, thinking.

Baldwin nodded.

'Uh, four months ago,' Benny said. 'It was during one of the lulls after that massive portal opened over Africa. We were clearing out some squatters in Cleveland.'

'How did you get away with it?' Wash asked. 'I mean, assaulting a superior officer is a pretty big thing.'

Benny looked at his brother, saying, 'Yes, how did you manage that? You never told me.'

Andrew shrugged. 'Same way any enlisted does when they piss off an officer. Grovel, beg forgiveness, and buy her several large cases of Sweet William Cigars while promising to shoot her arch nemesis next time.'

'And who's that?'

'Her husband.'

More laughs that petered out when the bunk room's doors slid open and Hammond stepped inside.

'As you were,' he said when the Helljumpers and Spartans came to attention. They did as ordered, noting with some confusion that there was no technical expert accompanying him. 'So, how are you all getting along? Good?'

They all nodded and Hammond smiled.

'Good,' he said. 'Now, onto business.' A viewscreen at the far end of the room flickered to life, showing an overhead of a desolated city surrounded by desert, and everyone moved towards it.

'This is the Capital Wasteland,' Hammond said. 'It is all that remains of Washington, DC, following a nuclear war that occurred somewhere around two hundred years ago. Background radiation is down to what can be considered safe, so long as you don't drink the water or eat too much of the food, or spend in areas that set your Geiger's ticking away.

'There are three or four distinct settlements in the area, located here, here, and here.' Hammond tapped a beached aircraft carrier, a circle of scrap built around a crater, and a single street. 'With additional smaller outposts here and here.'

He pointed to what looked to be a tower complex and a small hamlet of houses located to the west of the other three.

'Previous forces had little to do with those ones so our intel on the places comes from an individual called Liam Hullum, a sort of local celebrity and hero people looked to for hope and protection.' An image appeared alongside the overhead maps, showing a man of maybe twenty-three. He had brown eyes, brown hair, tanned skin that showed dozens of scars, and nose that had been broken more than once.

'He died while helping to clear the previous crew's ship, tackled by a Grunt and turned to a fond memory by two plasma grenades.'

'At least it was quick,' Andrew said.

'Some small comfort,' Benny said.

Hammond nodded vaguely. 'Hullum, also known as the Lone Wanderer by a large number of the Capital Wasteland's denizens, worked closely with a group called the Brotherhood of Steel. They operate from the Pentagon, here.'

Another spot on the map was highlighted, resting within a five-sided structure on the banks of a murky and dismal river.

'During our last visit here, they came under attack by a mercenary force but were repulsed by the combined efforts of Hullum, the Brotherhood, and a timely Helljumper drop.

'Oo-rah,' Wash said softly.

'These mercenaries, by the name of Talon Company, were routed then eliminated in a series of days during a joint UNSC-BoS operation,' Hammond said. 'Casualties were light on our side but massive for the opposition, removing a major threat in the area. Scattered members may still roam the wastes but the chances of them actually showing up are minimal at best.'

'Any others, sir?' Andrew asked.

Hammond shrugged. 'Raiders, mostly. They're bandits, taking who and what they want whenever they please, but lack any kind of discipline or knowledge when it comes to fighting. They'll duck into cover but that's about it.

'What else?' Benny said.

'Robots, mutants, giant insects, typical science fiction mush, really,' Hammond said. 'There are also reports of a group called the Enclave, some kind of government remnants deal who posses better tech than the Brotherhood, but they and Hullum destroyed the Enclave's base of operations a few years ago, and as with Talon Company there should only be scattered members, possibly, walking about.

'So really, the only threat you might encounter will come from raiders with big guns but they'll be far and few between.'

'Understood, sir,' Andrew said. He glanced over his shoulder at the door, expecting to see them open and deposit some skinny kid with a knack for all things mechanical, but they remained closed.

'Looking for someone, Spartan?' Hammond asked.

'Yeah, this techie you're sending down with us,' Andrew said. 'You told us they'd be coming down with you, sir, but unless they're invisible I'd say they're a no show.'

Hammond smiled, hand dipping into his pocket. 'Not invisible, Spartan. Just small.' He produced a data chip, holding it aloft for all to see. 'Meet Tara. She's a dumb AI programmed to break into all things encrypted, and was paired with the last Spartan who came here.'

'Great,' Benny said. 'So we're hauling a holotank around with us as well, are we?'

Hammond smiled again and shook his head. 'No, Tara resides in your armour, Spartan. It's a design feature the MJOLNIR has had since the Mark V, along with the shields.'

'Cool,' the twins said.

'Who gets her?' Andrew asked.

'Well, you do, team leader,' Hammond said, holding the chip out. 'Tara likes to be paired with the one in command so she can relay any important information to the decision maker almost instantly.'

'He's team leader?' Wash and Benny said almost simultaneously.

'Sir, I was a higher rank than him,' Wash said. 'He was a corporal, I'm a sergeant. Basic chain of command.'

'And why do I always have to do what he says?' Benny whined.

'Well, this is a Spartan led expedition,' Hammond said to Wash. 'And being the senior Spartan present, Spartan Edwards has tactical command over the mission and its assets. If he feels unable to lead effectively, he can always relinquish command to you.'

Wash grumbled but said fine as Hammond turned to Benny.

'As for you, well, he is four minutes older. You have to respect your elders.'

'Dammit,' Benny muttered.

'Now that's sorted, I'll leave you to get acquainted more properly and with Tara.' Hammond said. 'We'll start ground operations at 1750, so you have until then to get whatever supplies you might need secured in the Falcon. Good luck.'

The group came to attention again as Hammond left, Andrew looking at the data chip he'd been given.

'How come you get all the cool stuff?' Benny asked.

Andrew shrugged. 'Maybe I was born lucky.'

'Bullshit,' Benny said. 'You were born first, is all.'

'True,' Andrew said, reaching for his helmet. 'Still, this is going to be a simple snatch and grab of all shiny gizmos that can kill a man. I doubt we'll see much, if any, combat.'

'Don't jinx us,' Benny warned.

Andrew smiled. 'I'll try not to.'

He slipped his helmet then felt around for the data chip port, locating it after a few seconds of fumbling.

'Here we go,' Andrew murmured, more to himself than anyone else, and inserted the chip.

The first sign that anything had happened was a sudden feeling of ice water entering his mind, thawing quickly as some kind of... presence took up residence inside his head, occupying the very same space and more. It was a very, very surreal experience.

'You're not short on space in here, are you?' a female voice said, seemingly coming from inside his head as well as his helmet speakers. 'Plenty of room to expand.'

'Hello?' Andrew said, hesitantly.

'Hello,' the AI said. 'UNSC AI Tara at your service.'

Benny and the Helljumpers were watching him with amused expressions, finding his surprise and quick glances over his shoulder to look for someone that wasn't there amusing.

'You're in my head,' Andrew said.

'More or less,' Tara said. 'I reside inside your armour, acting as a buffer between your brain's impulses and your suit, boosting that transfer speed and turning thought into movement almost instantly. Not to mention I can hack anything electronic, human or otherwise.'

'Can you expunge several incidents from my service record?' Andrew asked, getting a laugh from Tara back. It warbled with synthesised speech subroutines.

'Not from here, I can't,' she said. 'Maybe if we were back on Earth where I had access to HIGHCOM's systems...'

'You'd do it?'

'No,' Tara said. 'Your mistakes involving superior officers are your problem, not mine.'

'Dammit,' Andrew said. He shrugged. 'Oh, well.' He clapped his hands together. 'Okay, now that I have a computer living inside my head and less than fifteen minutes before we're sent to that godforsaken place, I say we get ready.

'Sergeant Wash, take either Fillion or Baldwin and start prepping the Falcon for departure. Spartan Edwards, myself, and whichever of those two you leave behind will go to the quartermaster and stock up on supplies. Do you have a preferred weapon?'

'Yeah,' Wash said. 'SMG.' She turned to the two Helljumpers. 'Baldwin, go with the Spartans. Fillion and I will get the bird ready. Don't do anything to embarrass me, clear?'

'Crsytal, Sarge,' Baldwin said, walking over to the twins. 'Alright, let's go get some supplies.'

**1806 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ ABOARD FALCON GOLF-11, EN ROUTE TO THE PENTAGON**

'What a shit hole,' Benny said, staring out the side of the Falcon as it flew over the ruin littered desert that was the Capital Wasteland.

Crumbled highways rose above it, their onramps long ago destroyed or weaken to a point that a particularly strong gust of wind would knock them down, while derelict buildings stood alone, surrounded by old roads and the hulks of cars.

The setting sun did little to cast it in a better light, simply shrouding much of it in shadow that, thankfully, hid the worst of it from sight.

'No worse than your half of our room when we were kids,' Andrew said from his seat. In front of them Baldwin and Fillion were manning their turrets, lazily sweeping them from side to side looking for enemies.

In the centre of the Falcon were their packs, filled with enough ammo and supplies to last them around two weeks without external resupply, and everywhere else there was space, they filled it with either food or ammo, extending their duration to nearly three weeks.

'Nice to see this place hasn't changed,' Tara said, broadcasting on Andrew's external speakers.

'I think you're the only one here who's actually happy to be here,' Baldwin said from his gun. 'Hot as hell, misery to look at, filled with all kinds of threats we have no idea how to identify.'

'I never said I was glad to be back, private,' Tara said. 'Just that I'm happy to note there's been no other cataclysmic event that has reshaped the world and made it even worse. It's still a wasteland filled with mutants and-'

A round pinged off the starboard rotor and Fillion traversed his gun, searching for the shooter.

'Leave it,' Wash said from the cockpit. 'Probably some jackass with a pistol and half a brain. Not worth the ammo. Save them for a more decent target.'

'Got it, boss,' Fillion said. 'Couldn't see anything anyway, not at this height.'

'You were saying, Tara?' Benny said once the excitement had worn off.

'Nothing, Spartan,' she said. 'This place was a hellhole when I left, and it's still a hellhole now. Though the Brotherhood of Steel has a new and improved robot to use against the bad guys, so things may be getting better.'

Wash slowed the Falcon and lost some height, approaching the Pentagon.

'You sure about that, Tara?' the sergeant asked, bringing the gunship to a near stop. 'Because I don't think the Brotherhood are doing much of anything now.'

The four soldiers in the blood tray leaned out to see around the bulk of the Falcon, getting their first proper look at the Pentagon.

From the outside and on foot, it looked to be in serviceable condition when you compared it to the surrounding world. There were a few places where the walls had collapsed, leaving behind a pile of rubble, but other than that it was still structurally sound.

Then Wash fed power to the rotors and raised them above the wall, giving everyone a clear view into the inner courtyard.

'That don't look too good,' Baldwin said upon seeing a massive crater in the centre of the Pentagon.

The crater reached several stories below ground and was filled with yet more rubble, all of it fresher looking that the surrounding city. Some of it was the same dreary brown and grey that made up the Pentagon's structure, but along the cracks the underlying stone and concrete was cleaner, not as faded or eroded.

'This isn't possible,' Tara said. 'The Citadel was still intact when we left. There's no way this could have happened.'

'Well, apparently, it did,' Andrew said. 'Any idea on how it happened?'

'Scanning,' Tara said as lines washed over Andrew's HUD, scanning for irregularities in the rubble and trace evidence. 'I'm detecting several scorch marks, like those made from a bomb explosion or missile attack, suggesting an airstrike or similar, but the only ones who might have had this capability were the Enclave and they were destroyed years before we even arrived.'

'Then someone else with a beef against the Brotherhood is around,' Benny said, pointing at the crater. 'And that someone has some serious firepower.'

'Any idea how long ago this happened?' Wash asked.

'Unknown,' Tara said. 'Without performing a detailed search, I can only say that it's been a few months, minimum. There's no significant amount of dust in the air, no anomalous thermal readings from internal fires that could have been caused by the missile strike, suggesting they've used up all available fuel, no residual trace amounts of explosives in the air. Nothing.'

'Want me to land, Spartan?' Wash offered as they continued to hang in the air.

'No,' Andrew said. 'There's not much we could learn from a month old crater. Get on the horn with the _Butterfly, _let them know what we've found.'

'You got it,' Wash said. 'Butterfly Actual, this is Falcon Golf-One-One. We've hit a slight snag in the mission, seeing as how our target location is just a huge fucking hole in the ground. Please advise, over.'

There was a brief pause over the COM as Actual took a moment to process Wash's transmission.

'_Golf One-One, please repeat your last,' _Actual said. _'It sounded like you said the objective isn't there.'_

'Affirmative, Actual. Nothing but a hole in the ground and rubble filling it. We got no sign of life.'

'Tara thinks it was caused by a missile strike,' Andrew added. 'We've got scorch marks on what remains of the courtyard.'

'_Acknowledged, Spartan.' _Actual said. '_Confirm no objective?'_

'Confirm, Actual,' Andrew said. 'It's like Sergeant Wash said. There's just a fucking hole.'

'_Huge _fucking hole,' Wash corrected.

'Right,' Andrew said. 'We got a huge fucking hole. That's it.'

Actual sighed. '_Golf One-One, can you please refrain from swearing? This _is _a military channel.'_

'Fuck that shit, bitch,' Wash said. 'I got a bird full of bastards and fuck me if I don't feel outnumbered being surrounded by such tiny pricks who act like massive bellends. Swearing helps keep the stress down and fuck if it doesn't feel good.'

There was another lengthy pause over the COM.

'_Golf One-One, you do realise I'm a superior officer? You can't address me like that.'_

'No, sir. You're merely a higher ranking one, and a squid to boot. I take my orders from the Corp.'

'Oo-rah,' Fillion, Baldwin, Andrew and Benny added.

Actual sighed in despair.

'_Golf One-One, please hold for new orders. If it's not too much of a fucking challenge?'_

'Now you're talking my language,' Wash said. 'We'll be fucking here, ready and waiting.'

The line went silent as the team shared some laughs at Actual's expense.

'So what do you think our next move is, Andy?' Fillion asked, looking at Andrew.

He shrugged. 'Find the Brotherhood. They had other outposts in the city, right, Tara?'

'Several, Spartan,' the AI said. 'I can pinpoint them on Sergeant Wash's navigation unit if needed.'

'Then we'll see what Actual comes back with and find one. How hard can it be to find a bunch of guys wearing a few dozen kilos of steel?'

'Depends on whether you've got a magnet or not,' Baldwin said.

Actual came back at that moment, sounding exasperated at having to continue dealing with the team.

'_Okay, Golf One-One. You are to head south towards Project Purity and make contact with the Brotherhood there. They should have a strong presence there.'_

'Acknowledged, Butterfly Actual,' Wash said as Tara painted a new waypoint on her controls, some kilometres south of them along the river. 'Golf One-One, out.'

The Falcon veered away from the ruins of the Pentagon, the two Spartans and two Helljumpers dumping themselves down in their seats, and headed onwards towards Project Purity.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter Five

**1825 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ ABOARD FALCON GOLF-11, EN ROUTE TO THE JEFFERSON MEMORIAL**

Wash kept the Falcon low, barely two metres from the surface of the Potomac River, the rotors churning the water as they flew south towards Project Purity, housed in what remained of the Jefferson Memorial.

'You ever go there, Tara?' Benny asked.

'Yes,' she said. 'The Spartan I was paired with helped defend it from Talon Company, leading twelve ODSTs and a rag tag bunch of Brotherhood soldiers. They managed it with only two fatalities and four wounded.'

'Any of our guys?' Wash said from the cockpit.

'No,' Tara said. 'Barring an incident in Vault 108, the only casualties we had were during operations in the Mojave Wasteland on the west coast. Combat operations in this area tended to carry with them relatively low threats to everyone's wellbeing.'

Andrew hummed. 'Why? Were the guns that shit?'

'They fired, in most cases, a 5.56mm round, Spartan,' Tara said as a series of images flashed over Andrew's HUD. 'Some of the larger guns had .308 rounds but for the most part, terminal performance was below what we considered a threat.'

Baldwin laughed from behind his gun. '5.56? That's been obsolete for centuries.'

'Not here, it isn't,' Benny said, performing a quick sweep with his battle rifle. Satisfied there was nothing, he lowered it.

The Falcon banked then slowed, arriving at the Purifier.

'We're here,' Wash said. 'You want me to get closer?'

'Not yet,' Andrew said. 'Benny, scope the place out. Tell me what you can see.'

'Sure thing,' Benny said, raising his rifle a second time.

'Bad feeling, boss?' Fillion asked.

'Kind of,' Andrew said. 'I'm just thinking that if someone wiped the Brotherhood out, they'd then want to take control of a major source of influence, right?'

'And this place is a source of influence?' Benny asked, battle rifle panning over the distant structure slowly.

'It has pure water,' Tara said. 'If given the choice between irradiated water and pure stuff, people are going to go for the pure stuff. No one wants to die of radiation poisoning if they can help it.'

Wash nudged the Falcon forward a few metres, giving Benny a clearer angle.

'Thanks,' he said.

'Did the BoS charge people for the water?' Baldwin asked.

'No, they gave it away for free,' Tara said.

Baldwin laughed, as did Fillion, and said, 'Bullshit. No one in this place would give away something that everyone wants for free.'

'No, seriously,' Tara said. 'The Brotherhood of Steel, working with members of Rivet City's security force, distributed fresh water to all the major towns in the land for nothing.'

The two Helljumpers stopped laughing.

'Brotherhood wears steel-grey armour, right?' Benny asked, still looking at the Memorial. 'Big, bulky, heavy stuff? Loads of exposed components and shit?'

'Correct,' Tara said.

'Okay,' Benny said. 'So who wears black, sleeker looking armour with not as much, if any, exposed components?'

Andrew looked at his brother, then beyond him to the distant structure and basin.

'You what?' he said, leaning over.

Benny just handed him the battle rifle and Andrew raised it, looking down the scope as its auto zoom function kicked in, bringing everything that bit closer.

There was a road sitting along the bank, cracked and damaged in a number of places, that ran south to the Memorial where it met a kind of bridge that sat half on, half off the bank which curved round to a jury rigged bottling area where a number of what Andrew could only assume were technicians tended the machinery.

Spread amongst them carrying a varied assortment of weapons were soldiers, wearing heavy looking armour, compete with a full face helmet that had two pointed ears. Everything was finished in a black metal, the amount of scratches and burns varying from person to person.

Tara took a photo of one facing them directly, head turned to another, and scanned the armour in detail.

'Enclave?' she murmured. 'But that's not possible. The Brotherhood wiped them out years ago.'

Andrew passed Benny his rifle back. 'Maybe they were hiding out somewhere, waiting for the opportune time to strike.'

'Maybe this is a different parallel world to the one you visited,' Benny said, resuming aiming at the soldier. 'Was there ever any guarantee this rock thing would take you back to the exact same place?'

Tara processed that for a few seconds. 'No, there wasn't.'

'There you go then,' Benny said. 'This could be a world where the Brotherhood are evil, the Enclave are good, and we have to make friends with them instead.'

Fillion hummed in thought. 'If they're the good guys, why does their armour just scream evil?'

'Poor design,' Baldwin said. 'Or they're like some sort of relay system for a radio. Antenna, maybe.'

'Plausible,' Tara said.

'Orders, Andrew?' Wash asked. 'Touch down or keep like this?'

'Touch down,' Andrew said. 'Land somewhere back the way we came, drop me and Benny off, then cover us as we make-'

'Hold up,' Baldwin said. 'Got eyes on two, possibly three, BoS guys approaching from the north. Heavily armed. I count at least one missile launcher.'

'Alright then,' Andrew said. 'Wash, hold position. Let's see what happens here. Benny, track them.'

'You got it,' Benny said, rifle sweeping to the BoS guys. 'Definitely three of them. One has a missile launcher, other two have sniper rifles. They're taking up firing positions. And... Missile away, inbound to Enclave.'

From the Falcon, they could see as a missile erupted from the BoS position and streaked towards the Enclave one, slamming into the nearest soldier and shredding them. The body parts hadn't even begun to fall as the snipers followed up, taking down another soldier and two technicians, as the missile launcher was reloaded and fired again.

It flew over everyone's heads and collided with the bottling equipment, throwing up plenty of fire and shrapnel that took out another two techies and wounded five more.

'Fuck me,' Benny said as water began spewing into the air.

'No thanks,' Andrew said.

'Permission to shoot?' Fillion asked.

'Denied,' Andrew said. 'We don't know _who _to shoot at this point, and neither side has bothered to engage. Usual ROE applies.'

On the ground, the remaining soldiers began regrouping, ducking into cover as a third missile was launched and impacted in the middle of a pen of mutated cows, brahmin according to Tara, and began returning fire.

An unfortunate techie accidentally bumped into one Enclave soldier, throwing his aim off, and was shoved roughly to the ground and had an armoured boot come down on his head.

'That's definitely not behaviour that you'd expect from the good guys,' Baldwin said as the Enclave soldier kicked the techie away, who didn't show any signs of life, into the river, inadvertently catching sight of the hovering Falcon.

Wash swore as they shouted something to their teammate and pointed at them.

'We've been made,' she said.

Ruby red lasers and slow moving blobs green plasma began flying their way, narrowly missing the Falcon by scant inches sometimes, as did the occasional shot clang that bounced off the hull.

'Okay, now you can shoot at them,' Andrew said to Fillion and Baldwin.

'You got it,' they said, both Helljumpers aiming their machine guns at the distant Enclave and firing a sustained burst each, spent brass casings flying out and landing in the water below, racking bridge with fire that sent the black armoured troops scuttling for cover.

'Benny, you still got eyes on the BoS boys?' Andrew asked over the din of two machine guns.

'Negative,' Benny said. 'They bailed when we lit up. Lost them in the buildings.'

Andrew glanced as best he could at the bottling machinery, seeing how badly it had been damaged.

'I think they achieved their mission,' he said as water continued to fountain into the air. 'Alright, Wash. Get us the fuck out of here. Head north, we'll try out that town built into a crater.'

'Why not that carrier?' Fillion asked, pointing at the distant hulk of a ship not far from their position as he and Baldwin ceased fire.

'There are a number of aircraft on it that match the designs of Vertibirds,' Tara said, tagging several objects sitting on the top deck. 'Hullum told us they were used almost exclusively by the Enclave in this area, and usually go hand in hand with them.'

'And as much as I'd like to, Fillion,' Wash said. 'We're not exactly equipped to take on a whole base of those guys. We land, they'd swamp and overpower us. Well, some at least.'

'Besides, our mission is recon, not direct assault,' Benny said as Wash directed their Falcon away from the Jefferson Memorial. 'We come in, take the lay of the land and collect a bunch of junk, we go. Command said nothing about launching a full scale operation to pacify this place.'

'Why would we, anyway?' Fillion said, gesturing at the desert. 'This place sucks.'

'You're thinking like enlisted, Fillion,' Wash said. 'Command has another way of thinking entirely. They'd probably make up some bullshit excuse and send us in, complaining if we don't do the job quick enough.'

'Aye, this be true.'

Andrew smirked and shook his head, looking out the back of the Falcon's blood tray when he saw a shape take off from the aircraft carrier and come for them.

'Bollocks,' he said, activating his radio. 'Butterfly Actual, this is Golf One-One. We have an enemy aircraft on our six, hostile intent. Could do with some support out here. Over.'

'_Golf One-One, solid copy,' _Actual said. '_Longswords are being launched as we speak, inbound to provide support.'_

'Acknowledged, Actual,' Andrew said. 'Golf One-One, standing by.'

Barely thirty seconds later, the Vertibird that was following them exploded in a ball of fire and shrapnel as a Longsword screeched overhead, cannons blazing.

'Target down,' Andrew radioed. 'Appreciate the assist, Actual.'

'_You're welcome, One-One,' _Actual said as Wash angled north. '_Update on mission?'_

'Purifier was a bust,' Benny said. 'We encountered hostile forces who engaged us, not BoS, but saw three figures wearing armour similar to the Brotherhood engaging same hostiles. We're now heading to a town to speak with some locals.'

'Designation is Charlie Whiskey Three,' Tara added.

There was a pause over the COM.

'_Confirm no BoS presence at Purifier?' _Actual asked.

'Confirm, Actual,' Wash said. 'Armour didn't match and Tara labelled them as Enclave. I'm guessing these guys wiped out the Brotherhood somehow and took their place.'

'Or we're in a whole new parallel world,' Fillion muttered.

Actual sighed. _'Very well, One-One. Proceed at your own discretion but we'll have Longswords and the _Butterfly _staying on standby if you need us.'_

'Acknowledged, Actual,' Andrew said. 'Golf One-One, out.'

**1903 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ ABOARD FALCON GOLF-11, NEAR TOWN DESIGNATED CHARLIE WHISKEY THREE**

The sun was down by the time they reached the ramshackle town, a half moon hanging in the sky, and Wash approached the structure cautiously, deactivating the Falcon's running lights.

Even so, the noise from the rotors cut through the still desert night and the team collective made mental notes to see about getting some new blades sorted out that would cut down on the noise.

'Set her down somewhere,' Andrew said to Wash, grabbing his assault rifle. 'Benny and me will go in on foot. You three stay with the Falcon, ready to come swooping in when everything goes wrong.'

'Got it,' Wash said.

'Ready?' Benny said to Andrew as the Falcon came in to land.

'As ever,' Andrew said.

Both twins jumped down and set foot on the desert floor, weapons up and warily scanning for threats. There were none and Andrew motioned for the Falcon to take off again, getting a thumbs-up from Baldwin as he performed a sweep with his gun.

They flashed him one back and centred themselves on CW-3, a town built around a crater and one of three places that passed for a major population centre in the Capital Wasteland. With CW-1 under possible Enclave control and CW-2 a ways away, it was the best possible place to get some Intel.

'Well, Hammond was right,' Benny said as they set off.

'How so?' Andrew asked.

'This operation has gone exactly the opposite way we thought it'd be like.'

'We've only been here for an hour.'

'But we thought we'd be making contact with the Brotherhood at the Pentagon,' Benny pointed out, stepping around a rock. 'But, they're no place to be seen and their base is a huge fucking hole in the ground.'

'Touché,' Andrew said. 'So maybe that part of our mission hasn't exactly panned out how we wanted but still, we've only been here for an hour and we're supposed to be acquiring technology.'

'And yet we traded shots with a bunch called the Enclave who, to our knowledge, were wiped out years ago and were then chased by some kind of unknown aircraft,' Benny said. 'I came here expecting relative quietness and ease.'

'I came here expecting something to fuck up and for once, it wasn't you,' Andrew said. 'Therefore, for me at least, this whole op has gone exactly how I expected it to.'

'Pessimist,' Benny said.

'Naive child,' Andrew shot back.

'At least I'm fun to be around,' Benny said.

'And I'll bring two grieving ex-girlfriends to your funeral,' Andrew said. 'Then console them all night long afterwards.'

Benny looked at his brother. 'What makes you think I'm going to die first? You're the older brother.'

'I tend to think worst case, my dear Bunge,' Andrew said. 'Ergo, I won't walk into a situation thinking everything is fine and let my guard down, allowing some hinge head to get the drop on me. I'll walk into it, eyes and head on a swivel, with my guard up and my assault rifle loaded. That's why I'll die last.'

'You hope,' Benny said.

'I know,' Andrew said.

Benny shook his head and they walked on, going down a hill then following a faint path that curved up another hill that CW-3 was at the top of, entering a gully lined with rocks and the occasional rusting hulk.

'You think they'll have a guard-' Benny began to say when a round struck his shields and made them glow.

The twins reacted without thought, ducking into cover with their guns trained in vaguely the shooter's direction.

'Yes, I think they'll have a guard,' Andrew said, rifle performing sweeps. 'Now who was it that we thought would be a jinx?'

'Bite me,' Benny said. 'Dammit, no sign of our friend.'

'Stick your head out,' Andrew said. 'Draw him out.'

'What?' Benny said. 'Why me?'

'Chain of command?' Andrew suggested. 'Besides, there's no way that he could break through your shields. You're in no danger.'

'You're not the marksman,' Benny said, gesturing at the battle rifle he held. 'So I suggest you stick _your _head out, let the sniper fire, and I'll zero in on his muzzle flash.'

'And if I refuse?'

'I'll tell mum.'

Andrew recoiled in horror.

'You wouldn't,' he said.

'I would,' Benny said. 'Now, stick that head out and let's find us a shooter.'

'Can't you do anything to help, Tara?'Andrew asked the AI.

'I could, but, this is so much more fun,' she said.

'Dammit,' Andrew muttered. 'Fine. But only shoot to disable, not wound. Got it?'

'Any particular reason why?' Benny asked.

'Yeah,' Andrew said. 'Because I think that town there might be a little less willing to talk to us if we kill one of their own.'

'Fair point,' Benny said, resting his battle rifle on the rock he was crouched behind. 'Ready over here.'

'Not liking it over here,' Andrew said, poking his head out from behind cover. Almost instantly, a round clipped the side, his shields glowing gold in the half-light of the moon. 'Ow.'

'Baby,' Benny murmured.

Andrew ducked back into cover, rubbing his head where the sniper had struck. 'See him?'

'Maybe,' Benny said. 'Saw a brief column of fire but it was gone before I could properly zero in on it.'

'You're an augmented super soldier with superior reflexes,' Andrew said, giving his brother a flat look. 'Wearing state of the art armour that can playback everything you've seen. And you're telling me that despite all that, you can't pinpoint where a single sniper is?'

'Yes.'

'Coming from you, I'd almost believe it,' Andrew said. 'But, you take more amusement in seeing me get shot so-'

Benny fired a single triple tap from his rifle, hitting a distant target.

'-you did see the sniper but wanted to see me get shot in the side of the head again.'

'Oh, you know me so well,' Benny said, standing. No more fire was directed their way.

'I shared the same womb as you for nine months, then spent the best part of twenty-five years protecting your ass,' Andrew said. 'Of course I know what you're thinking.'

'Shall we?' Benny said, waving at the town just up the hill from them.

'After you,' Andrew said. 'Next time, I'll shoot the sniper and you can be the bait.'

'No promises.'

Andrew sighed but stood and followed his brother, radioing the _Butterfly._

'Butterfly Actual, this is Spartan Edwards. We're heading into CW-3. Will radio if problems arise.'

'_Roger, Edwards,' _Actual said. _'Stay safe in there.'_

'No promises.'

Actual sighed. '_Of course.'_


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: ****I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.**

Chapter Six

**1910 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ OUTSIDE TOWN DESIGNATED CHARLIE WHISKEY THREE**

The twins made it to the outer wall of CW-3 without being shot again but then hit another snag: they couldn't see any way in.

In the low light and up close, they saw the wall surrounding the town was made of scavenged metal, most of it from airplanes and corrugated metal. Sturdy looking enough to keep most of the wasteland out provided they didn't have heavy weapons or aircraft.

'Any ideas?' Benny asked as they reached the base of the wall, seeing a hard packed trail in the desert floor leading to a spot between two wings, a rusty jet engine resting above them.

Andrew looked up and down the sides of CW-3, thinking.

'We climb?' he said, gesturing above and beyond the engine. 'Overheads show the town's got no roof. We climb up here, get over the wall, jump down and we're inside. Easy.'

'Works for me,' Benny said, clamping his rifle to his back.

His brother did the same and both Spartans approached the wings, grabbing hold of it and using whatever nooks and crannies there were to scale it.

The metal creaked ominously under their weight a few times but held, and they soon reached a platform built above the engine, spotting a pool of blood.

Andrew looked at Benny.

'You had trouble finding the shooter when he was in such an obvious and exposed location?'

'No,' Benny said. 'I spotted him long before you got shot in the head.'

'So why have me stick it out then?' Andrew asked.

'A laugh?' Benny said.

Andrew shook his head, sighing. 'The things I have to put up with.'

Benny just chuckled as he hauled himself onto the platform, holding his hand out for Andrew.

There were a few rusted boxes of ammo, empty, and some binoculars, hanging up on a jutting piece of metal, and not much else. They moved past it, past an ancient mattress sat in what little cover there was on top of the platform, and approached a rail.

Beyond it was CW-3 in its entire entirety.

'What a shithole,' Andrew said, looking out over the cobbled together buildings made from centuries old rusting metal, vaguely arranged into a circular layout with no uniform height. Walkways tried to connect everything, in one or two instances going over the roof of a building.

'I'd be more worried about that,' Tara said, placing a waypoint on the lowest point in town.

'Fuck me, a nuke?' Benny said, taking a step backwards.

'Apparently,' Andrew said, staring at the weapon.

It was battered, weathered, and lying in a shallow pool of water, giving absolutely no indication of whether it was stable or not.

Benny was silent for a minute then said, 'And people call us crazy. At least we never set up home near an unexploded atomic bomb.'

'No, but we might just start a firefight next to one instead,' Andrew said, pointing at the main path that led from the entrance to the bomb. A number of people armed with a varied collection of weapons had taken cover behind rudimentary defences, training their guns up at them, while further back on the upper levels a small group had sniper rifles.

'Ah,' Benny said.

'Uh huh,' Andrew said before clapping his hands together. 'Well, I think we've spent more than enough time admiring this powder keg. What do you say we go meet the locals?'

'I'd say no but, you'd just order me to go down anyway,' Benny said.

His older brother patted him on the shoulder, saying, 'That's the spirit. Tara, tell Wash we're initiating first contact and to be ready for a gunship rescue.'

'On it,' the AI said.

Andrew patted Benny on the shoulder once more then leaned over the railing, checking to see if there was anything beneath him, then jumped to the ground, Benny joining him a scant second later.

The nearest people to them raised their weapons, aiming half at each twin.

'Appear as not threatening as you can,' Andrew said, holding his hands up to show they were empty. 'Don't give them a reason to shoot us.'

'We're seven foot tall, just shot one of their guys, and we're wearing armour that's way more advanced than anything they've ever seen,' Benny said as Andrew took a step towards the townspeople. 'How can we appear non-threatening after all that?'

'I don't know,' Andrew said, glancing at his brother. 'Just, figure out a way, okay? Raise your hands and don't draw a weapon.'

'Like I'm going to,' Benny said, gesturing at the people. They flinched a little but did nothing else. 'Actual would probably chew our asses out for killing someone we didn't need to and I'd rather save my ammo for a more threatening target.' He looked at the nearest person. 'No offence.'

The person in question, a woman with reddish hair and a bolt action rifle, just shared a bewildered expression with the one next to her, a ghoul if they remembered their briefing packet correctly.

Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Actual doesn't care what we do, so long as we tone the swearing down a little. He might get a little pissed if we did waste everyone but not by much. He's more than likely a spook so results are his concern, not the process through which we got said results. I mean, we could kill everyone here with little difficulty right now.'

A number of rifles turned his way and Andrew looked at them, annoyed.

'I'm not saying we will,' he said. 'Now can you please lower your guns? I'm trying to have a conversation with my brother here and having a town full of weapons trained on us is more than a little distracting.'

'Yeah,' Benny said. 'We haven't pointed a gun at you while you were having a conversation, have we? So how about a little common courtesy and lower the fucking guns?'

Andrew shook his head as the owners of the rifles hesitated. 'Some people have no manners.'

'Nope,' Benny said. 'Now, where were we?'

'Arguing on something or another,' Andrew said. 'But, thanks to some people,' He looked at the nearest group. 'I've forgotten. Thanks a lot.'

More confused and bewildered looks from CW-3's inhabitants. They had been expecting an armed intrusion, a battle, not bickering from the two armoured figures. It caught them off guard and the more cynical among them went back to their guns, thinking the whole act was a ruse to lull them into a false sense of security.

'That's not really all their fault,' Benny said to his brother. 'You are kind of pushing it. They say memory is the first thing to go.'

Andrew looked at the red haired woman and the ghoul, saying, 'See what I have to put up with?'

To Benny, he said, 'Fuck you, I'm only four minutes older.'

'Still older,' Benny said.

'Do I have to tell mum you've been disrespectful?' Andrew said.

Benny shrugged. 'Like she'd stay mad at her baby.'

As they continued their... debate, a man with a duster, a wide brimmed cowboy hat, and black skin cautiously approached the pair, an assault rifle clasped in his hands. He moved slowly, from cover to cover, then joined the red head and her ghoul companion.

He watched the Spartans for a few seconds then stepped out of cover and walked towards them.

'You guys for real?' he asked, getting their attention.

'Sometimes,' Andrew said. 'Depends on the situation.'

'And whether we feel like pissing each other off,' Benny said.

'Which reminds me,' Andrew said. He slapped the back of Benny's head. Hard. 'Respect your elders, boy.'

Benny rubbed the back of his head, muttering under his breath.

'Now that's sorted,' Andrew said, turning to the man in the duster and holding his hand out. 'Spartan Edwards, UNSC. This here is Spartan Edwards, also of the UNSC.'

The man paused, staring at the offered hand, then shook it. 'Simms. Lucas Simms. Sherriff and Mayor of Megaton.'

'Sherriff,' Benny said, nodding his head. He looked at the rifles still trained on them.

Simms looked at them too and made a subtle gesture with his hand. 'It's okay, folks. Lower 'em.'

They did, slowly, but remained on alert.

'So,' Simms said, turning back to the Spartans. 'You're not Brotherhood. You're sure as hell not Enclave. So just who are you guys?'

'The UNSC,' Andrew said. 'We're part of the same group that helped repel Talon Company from the Citadel.' He paused. 'Before it was bombed.'

'Talon Company never attacked the Citadel,' Simms said. 'They didn't go anywhere near it. Couldn't. The Brotherhood would have chewed them to pieces.'

'But they did,' Benny said. 'We have records that show they did. Hell, there were even planes flying all over it, dropping nine kinds of hurt on them, and then you had ODSTs dropping in.'

Simms' expression didn't change.

'Seriously?' Benny said, continuing. 'Talon Company mounted a full scale military campaign against the Brotherhood. It was all over Galaxy News Radio for days!'

This made Simms' brow furrow slightly and he said, 'GNR never broadcast anything like that. I listened to it up until it went off air a year ago. Three Dog never mentioned any kind of attack like that. Last thing anyone heard from that station was the sound of a gun firing.'

The twins shared concerned looks.

'Tara, why didn't you tell us GNR wasn't broadcasting?' Andrew asked the AI.

'I didn't think to check,' she said. 'Scanning now.'

There was a brief pause and Simms looked at Andrew, startled. He opened his mouth to ask but Andrew made a later gesture.

'I'm only detecting one signal,' Tara said. 'And it doesn't match either of the two I detected before.'

'That'll be the Enclave station,' Simms said. 'Whoever it is that spoke. After Galaxy News Radio went off, Agatha soon went quiet as well and no one's dared go check on her. We've had the Enclave playing their songs and spouting their usual nonsense of making this place great again ever since.'

'But the Enclave was destroyed,' Tara said. 'The Brotherhood of Steel helped eradicate them long ago, thanks mostly to the Lone Wanderer.'

A flicker of recognition and hatred appeared in Simms' eyes and his jaw clenched slightly.

'Whoever told you that must have been feeding you a lot of bull, lady,' he said. 'It wasn't the Brotherhood who wiped out the Enclave. It was the other way around. As for the Wanderer, he was the one who nuked the Citadel.'

**1929 HOURS, MARCH 22, 2553 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM, PLANET EARTH \ INTERIOR OF TOWN DESIGNATED CHARLIE WHISKEY THREE**

There was only just enough room to land the Falcon inside Megaton though Wash was unhappy about parking right next to an atomic warhead, despite Simms' assurances it was safe, and she along with Fillion and Baldwin regrouped with Andrew and Benny inside the sheriff's house.

The ODSTs sat, the Spartans stood, and Simms launched into his tale of the Brotherhood's downfall and the Lone Wanderer's involvement.

He had come out of Vault 101 a year and a half ago, wide eyed and oblivious to the horrific wasteland that sat beyond the sturdy Vault door, and begun his quest to find his dad.

Hullum, his name being the only thing so far that matched the UNSC's records on the Capital Wasteland, had initially begun his quest in Megaton, asking around for his father as well as foiling a plot to detonate the bomb sat next to Wash's Falcon, gaining a home by way of thanks. He'd then helped sort a few problems around town, like fixing the water treatment plant and helping a junkie kick his habit, as well as working on and finishing the Wasteland Survival Guide.

'At least we have another correlation point,' Tara said. Her data chip was resting a table, the built-in projector showing her ghostly avatar. 'Our Hullum helped write and publish the guide as well.'

It had freaked Simms out a little seeing her appear but he'd recovered and went on.

With Megaton seen to, Hullum had set out towards DC with a kind of optimism and naivety typical of a Vault Dweller fresh from the Vault, not yet worn down by the horrors it possessed, and Three Dog had picked up his exploits, slowly turning Hullum into a hero of sorts.

After all, if a fresh faced kid was willing to lay their life on the line to rescue complete strangers from slavers and super mutants, then why not turn them into a celebrity people could rally behind?

That had been the usual modus operandi for Hullum since leaving the Vault, help others who couldn't help themselves.

That is, until two separate but close together events happened.

The first was the Enclave's assault on the purifier, during which the Wanderer's dad had sacrificed himself to save Hullum and what few scientists remained, as well as denying the Enclave use of the purifier.

Simms relayed to the team that Hullum had returned to Megaton and fallen into a drunken pit of despair, only emerging to slog his way to the town's saloon before Moriarty, the former owner until someone killed him in his sleep, chucked the kid out for any number of reasons.

He had repeated this cycle for a number of days until the radios around Megaton began picking up an unusual broadcast coming from the nearby Vault, Hullum heading straight for his old home.

This had set off the second event though no one really knew what had happened, just that after he came out Hullum had become distant, cynical, indifferent.

Before then, he had always taken pains to kill only when it was the last option, avoiding combat or incapacitating his opponents, and made sure to ensure the people he helped were helped to the best of his abilities.

Since disappearing into the Vault, Hullum hadn't cared about collateral damage. If it posed any kind of threat, he removed it permanently. It didn't matter if it was a junkie looking to pay for his next habit or a grizzled super mutant. The moment they pulled any kind of weapon on the Lone Wanderer, they signed their death certificate.

The Brotherhood, who were still trying to counter the Enclave's attacks, had started to become reluctant at enlisting Hullum's aid but couldn't stop relying on him. His skills and ability to tackle anything head on and alone was too valuable to lose. So they had used caution when working with him, trying their best to stay on his good side.

'I take it that didn't last,' Wash said.

Simms shook his head. 'Nope. That kid went with them on their assault, one final push to wipe the Enclave out and break them, only to use it as an opportunity to nuke the Citadel.'

Numerous wastelanders and Three Dog himself had reported seeing streaks of light descending from the night sky and slamming into the Brotherhood's fortress, destroying it and everyone inside in the blink of an eye. What remained of the Brotherhood was left scattered over the ruins of DC, leaderless and at a loss of what to do until a few weeks later the Enclave had shown up, and in force.

Disheartened and overwhelmed by their sheer numbers, BoS forces had been forced to retreat or surrender, disappearing into the wastes.

The move had come as a shock to the people of the Capital Wasteland, only to be superseded by the news that the Lone Wanderer had been sighted working alongside the Enclave, firing _at_ the Brotherhood and capturing many of their positions.

'You mean, he's still alive?' Tara said, looking at Simms.

He looked back at her, still trying to get over the fact she was a computer program and stored on something half the size of his fist.

'Yeah,' he finally said. 'Holed up in Rivet City with the Enclave's latest president, helping them 'manage' the Capital Wasteland.' Simms laughed mirthlessly. 'He's the one in charge no matter what anyone says.'

'And what's he having them do?' Andrew asked. 'We saw some of them tending to the machines at the Jefferson Memorial. Are they still distributing the water?'

Simms nodded. 'Yeah, Hullum's got them doing a hearts and minds campaign, trying to win back the locals favour by offering water and protection in exchange for service. You sign up for their workforce, doing anything from tending to the machines at Project Purity to clearing rubble in the Capitol Building, or you enlist in their growing militia.'

'How many in this militia?' Benny asked, shifting on his feet. Not being able to sit down was annoying sometimes, a side effect of the MJOLNIR's weight. 'And what do they do?'

'Anything the Enclave regulars and Talon Company don't want to do,' Simms said with a shrug. 'Patrolling the sewers and tunnels mostly, with the occasional caravan duty.'

Tara held up a hand. 'Go back. Talon Company is working _with _the Enclave?'

Simms nodded again, saying, 'Yeah. Have been for a while. Got some sketchy reports that say the Enclave were the ones bankrolling them to keep DC a hellhole. Now they deal with situations the militia can't that don't call for the power armoured troops or Hullum himself. They're sort of like a police force.'

'What's the general feel of the local population about all the changes?' Fillion asked, leaning back in his chair. 'They okay with everything or are they hoping for a resolution?'

'Fifty-fifty,' Simms said, making a so-so gesture. 'They're welcoming the increased protection and water but they don't like how the Enclave took control. The Brotherhood was making good progress, using a fair hand dealing with stuff, and the Enclave can be a bit heavy handed when they deal with things. Kind of upsetting for people to go from to the other with barely a breather.'

'What about the Brotherhood?' Andrew said. 'We saw three of their guys attacking Project Purity and killing a bunch of Enclave personnel. How many survived and where'd they go?'

Simms shrugged. 'Like I said, they went north and vanished. My guess is they went into one of the Vaults out there or left the Capital Wasteland completely and what you saw was a remnant trying to get one last win against the Enclave. No idea how many lived.'

Andrew nodded, checking the time. 'Okay. Well, thank you for informing us on what's happened. Thrown pretty much all our original Intel out the window but, live and learn.'

'Plan, boss?' Baldwin asked, looking over his shoulder at the Spartan.

'Find somewhere to bed down, relay everything we've learned to Actual, then head into the city tomorrow at first light,' he said. 'Mission is to find technology, so that's what we'll do.'

'We've got a house going spare,' Simms said. 'Used to belong to Hullum but seeing as how he's with the Enclave at Rivet City now. You all can bunk there for the night.'

'Really?' Benny said. 'I mean, I did shoot your guy up top and me and him-' He gestured to his brother. '-did break in here.'

'You shot to disable, not kill, Stockholm,' Simms said. 'And seeing as how you ain't shot anyone else, I'll take that as a good omen.' He reached into his duster and produced a key, tossing it to Andrew. 'House directly opposite this one. Don't mind Wadsworth, he's just there to keep the place tidy.'

'Got it,' Andrew said, passing the key to Baldwin. 'You go unlock the place, the rest of us will get some supplies from the bird.' To Simms, he said, 'Thanks for the hospitality.'

'Don't mention it,' Simms said.

The three ODSTs and two Spartans got up to leave, Andrew pausing to retrieve Tara's data chip and slot it back into place, and headed outside.

'Alright people,' Andrew said. '0730 start tomorrow. We go into the city, we find some tech to soothe ONI, then off we fuck back home. Agreed?'

They did and the team split up, getting ready for tomorrow's expedition.


End file.
